


A Still Ocean

by BritishArt_Mind



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: "Paradise", 1stwork, Angst, Drama, Escape, Fluff, Heartbreak, Insomnia, M/M, Prison, Romance, Sexual mention, Spoilers, newtisalive, unedited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-28 06:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritishArt_Mind/pseuds/BritishArt_Mind
Summary: If it really was paradise, would people keep leaving?----They thought they made it to paradise, until they all start to leave one-by-one. Newt floats away one night, leaving Thomas with a heavy heart and a crazy realization. Maybe... just maybe he loved the British boy.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Newt did not die, they got the cure to him in time L:  
> I tried to say within the age range of the books, though they never mentioned how old they were in the Death Cure, so I’m honestly just guessing. Teresa is dead and it has a way different ending in “paradise” then both the books and movies.  
> I have two OCS: Lake and Hattie  
> 1st work, so sorry if it sucks  
> Sorry the prologue is short, I'll try to make the chapters longer :)  
> I hope you enjoy! (Unedited)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work on AO3  
> Yeah  
> Grandma signing out

THOMAS Hated the feeling of the wind whistling between the wooden planks of his cabin. It squeezed through the cracks and over his body—imitating an uncomfortable, frigid cocoon—and it caused a hiss to break from between his gritted teeth. He rolled over in his cot and stared up at the wooden planks above him. The house creaked and animals screamed from beyond the walls. His whole body was hot a sticky despite the cold air filling the cabin. He yanked on the collar of his shirt, wishing he could just yank it off. But Thomas knew himself; the second he did, he would be cold.   
Finally he gave up on the prospect of sleep, it was past the middle of the night and he had lightly drifted in and out of conscious. He threw the blanket off of himself and swung his feet onto the floor. His dark brown hair was matted down to his forehead by the sweat. He pinched the bridge of his nose—by the gods, was he ever going to sleep?  
He moved over to the window and pulled it open. He leaned out and a salty breeze greeted him. It coated his mouth and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had been deprived of sleep for the past four months. When the… incident happened his mind was always far away and wide awake, thinking of the millions that left and the one that left him with hollow bones.   
Everyone left in their own ways; some people passed and other took to running away because they could no longer take the chaos. It was worse than the Flare that they had escaped. It hurt because it was willing, the person ducking their head in shame, unable to admit the truth. The truth that they wanted to leave because they could no longer be surrounded by other broken people that reminded them of the lost ones.   
It had been a late night on the ocean shore, the pair breathing in the sea salt, wet sand, and Thomas himself breathing in the smell of vanilla and roses. Then the truth hit and he had stilled the world, letting the pain sink in for an extended amount of time.   
“I’m leaving.”  
“Wait… wha-why?”   
“I can’t stand this place… it reminds me of the Glade.”  
“I’ll come wit-”  
“No Tommy.”

Newt had left by sea, taking a small boat and a supply of food and water. Everyday Thomas wondered if Newt was alive, safe, and happy. Then his heart would burn when he thought of him too long, his eyes following soon and tears threatening to spill.   
Barely any of them remained. It was Thomas, Frypan, Minho, Vince, Harriet, and Aris. Sonya had left last week, sobbing wildly and saying she couldn’t take it anymore. Even though they pretended this place was paradise all of them could agree it felt like a prison. It was a reminder of everything—the trials, the suffering, the pain, the death, and those who were no longer with them.   
Thomas sighed and then moved towards the door. He yanked it open and walked the familiar path towards the ocean. He stared out across the ever-moving dark waters. Thomas sat down on one of the logs, burying his face in his hands. Why was he still hoping? Why was he still trying to breath? Why was he still here? The others didn’t need him—not since he dropped his role as leader and became very distant. Minho would try to cheer him up to no avail; Thomas was lost in the storm inside his mind.   
Thomas lifted his head and looked at the stars reflected on the water and he wondered if Newt saw the same stars. 

 

 

When Thomas first woke up, confusion thrumming a beat in his mind and heart racing, he was worried. Then after a week of adventuring through the new place they called paradise, that fear left. He realized this place was perfect—they were far away from WCKD and the Flare was left behind.   
They hadn’t told him about how they managed to get Newt and inject him with the cure while he was asleep. They hadn’t told him about how the boy was fully healed over but was in a coma and wouldn’t wake up. He had felt so sad thinking that there hadn’t been a proper burial for the boy—until he realized he didn’t need one.  
Thomas was standing alongside Minho, the two of them talking about how they could set up another cabin. They thought they had enough, but they were getting over-crowded and causing fights to break out among the immunes. They needed more space for them.   
“If we make it bigger, it will take more time and more supplies,” Minho muttered, a frown forming on his face.   
“But then we won’t have to build more!” He retorted, though he knew it was pointless—he had said this a million times and had no other argument.   
Maybe he really isn't meant to lead.  
Or he just had to learn how to use his brain.   
“Three left today.”  
Both boys turned as Vince walked over, tan arms crossed over his chest. The man’s blonde hair was now long enough to compete with any of the girls.   
Minho’s brow furrowed, “klunk.”  
“Did they leave a note? Any reason as to why they decided to leave?” Thomas queried, walking over to meet the man.   
He shrugged, “they wrote a note saying they weren’t happy—it was too crowded and too much violence. They think they’ll be better off if we’re not in such a big group.”  
The man trailed off, his eyes glancing at his toes quickly.  
“What is it?” Thomas’ voice came out sharper than he meant.  
“The two girls that left four days ago were found dead.”  
Silence.  
Pure, deathly silence.  
Thomas glanced over at Minho, the Asian staring off towards the ocean. So many questions glimmered in his brown eyes. His gaze darted back to Vince who was watching the two with weary looks.   
“Minho? What do we do?” He had to leave this to the actual leader, didn’t he?  
“Make sure no one else finds out.”  
He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair. The stress was obvious—how did they die? What could’ve killed them? That wasn’t what paradise was supposed to be; it was supposed to be a perfect place.  
“It’s too late for that.”  
Nearly everyone knew.  
There was panic.   
They were demanding answers that nobody had.

Two days passed and they still didn’t have an answer. Thomas was stressed because Minho was stressed—their own leader was showing fear and he wasn’t supposed to. Thomas managed to get some of them under control, but others left by boat and floated away. Though he didn’t know all of them that left, he still felt a stab to his chest. Where did their faith go?   
Now he leaned against his cabin, eyes closed and face a perfect image of serenity. His skin hadn’t tanned, only had been dotted with more freckles, enough to make him look tan. His arms were crossed, biceps bulging in the tight t-shirt.   
“Hey you, get back here!” Brenda’s voice jolted him from his peaceful stance.  
He opened his eyes.   
His eyes zeroed in on a boy running out of the medical hut, shirtless and pale. He clutched the shirt to his chest. Dirty blonde hair was a mess upon his head. Thomas straightened, that shank-  
“Where the bloody hell am I?” Newt shouted, spinning around in a circle, confusion dancing on his gaze.   
“Newt, it’s okay! We saved you, you are no longer sick. We’re in paradise!” Brenda desperately tried to explain this to the boy. He was having none of it.   
“Is everyone okay? Where is Tommy?”  
Thomas had jumped over a bush and tumbled to the ground.   
He had been running towards his best friend the second he realized it was him.  
“Newt!” He squeaked, scrambling to stand up.  
“Tommy! You shank, where are we?” He asked, running to meet him.   
Thomas studied the boy. His skin was no longer extremely pale—it was back to its usual color. He couldn’t see any veins or any signs of the Flare. He stared openly; Newt was healed and he suddenly knew how. He had been wondering where the cure was—he remembered having it before and then woke up without it.  
He smiled, “paradise.”  
Though it may as well have been a lie.


	2. Washed up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three randos wash up to shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unedited! Enjoy  
> :)

|Three Months Laters|Washed Up| 

HE LIFTED the hoe and brought it down with a fast swing. The hard, dry soil cracked; revealing the wet earth beneath. His arms ached along with his back—he had been working those specific muscles for the past week. It was nearing the end of spring and they had just suffered a drought. They need to plant the crops before it became to late for them to get fertile and grow plentiful.   
He paused for a moment and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Harriet was following behind him, pulling up the earth and moving it to even out the dry and moist. She pressed fertilizer into the crevices and Aris followed up behind her, throwing seeds in.  
“How’s it going guys?” Jorge shouted as he walked over. Though Brenda and Jorge had been the first two to leave after they reached paradise, they came back around this time of year with different kind of seeds and other treats. The man had offered to pitch in, but due to his graying hair and wheezing breath, they refused.   
“Good,” Thomas replied, shielding his eyes as he looked up at the sky, “we should be finished with the last rows before it rains tonight.”  
Despite the blazing sun currently overhead, dangerous dark clouds swirled on the horizon. Once more he hefted the hoe and chucked the flat metal into the ground, watching the earth upheave. As Harriet started to catch up, he left his exhaustion and soreness behind and starting beating the ground even faster. His arms screamed, begging for a break and his breaths were coming in labored gasps.  
Aris glanced at him, “let’s take a break.”  
“No… no, I’m fine. I wanna get this done,” Thomas insisted. He lifted the hoe again, but before he could accurately bring it down his arms gave in and fell to his sides. The hoe clattered to the light brown ground. Aris walked over and picked up the hoe, eyeing Thomas worriedly. Everyone in the camp had noticed how Thomas was always trying to pitch in and always overworked himself. They understood he was trying to work away the pain and fear, but it isn’t healthy.   
“Come on Tommy, let’s go.”  
“Don’t call me that, klunk” he muttered gruffly. Jorge motioned Aris and Harriet away when they glanced at each other and one tried to reach out to somehow comfort him. Once the pair was gone, Jorge handed him a jug of water and sat down. He patted the space on the rock beside him.   
Thomas begrudgingly accepted and sat down. He guzzled down the water and wiped his mouth. The older man said nothing for a while, his dark eyes scanning the waves that ate at the shore several yards ahead of them. Him and Brenda had only been here for a few days and they could both feel the broken feeling that wafted from him. He smelled of it to—like something bitter and wasted water.  
“Everyone is worried about you Thomas. You’re quieter, colder, and from what I’ve heard, you over work yourself frequently. I know there are a million ways to deal with pain, but harming your health should not be one of them.”  
“Yeah?” Thomas retorted, his voice stiffening quickly, “well how do you suggest I deal with it, since you are such an expert? Run away like you and Brenda do, like all the others have? Just because you’re scared that things will turn out like before?”  
He was practically shouting at the end of his rant. He stood up and turned to Jorge, brown eyes alight with fire.   
“I’m not having it. At least I stuck around to help the others.”  
He was about to storm off when he was stopped. Minho and Brenda came barrelling out of the woods, shouting loudly. They were waving their arms around, both looking frantic. Thomas’ grip on his hoe tightened, was it a crank? In the place they called paradise? Minho arrived first and came to a skidding stop, sending dirt and grass flying.  
“What! What is it?” Thomas demanded, glancing at the words.  
“Come see,” Minho gasped, “at the far shore.”  
Without another word, the old Keeper of the Runners burst back in a sprint towards the way he came. Thomas dropped his hoe and followed—there seemed to be no danger, just something crazy. They rushed through the thicket of trees and towards the West shore. They halted as they crested the hill and gazed down at the shore. A small wooden boat was tipped over, broken wooden crates surrounding it.  
“It’s just some wash up…” Thomas muttered in confusion, side-eying the Asian.   
“No…” he gasped, “look.”  
He pointed a shaking finger and the other boy finally noticed a person lying on their side. Sand covered the majority of his body and he seemed to blend in with the wet sand. Thomas rushed down and turned him over. The boy was dark skinned, with deep blonde hair. His lashes were dark and thick, salt-water droplets sparkled amongst the dark rows. Disappointment burned in Thomas’ chest; it wasn’t Newt. Then he shook his head—this boy could easily be close to death.  
He leaned down and listened to his chest. A steady heartbeat. Minho finally came over after nudging the wooden materials around. The built boy squatted down and without a care in the world, smacked the unknown boy’s cheek. Hard.   
“Minho!” Thomas hissed.  
The boy jerked awake, revealing wide sea-green eyes. He glanced around in confusion before he noticed the two boys leaning over him. He gasped and tried to shuffle away, only to fall onto his back.   
“Hey shank, it’s okay,” Minho assured him, holding out both his hands, one of which just met his cheek.   
“Where are the other two?” The boy grunted, sitting up on his elbows and glancing around, “what did you do to them?”  
The boy lunged for Thomas, who swiftly moved out of the way, watching the confused boy fall on his face.   
“You were the only one we found. There are no others,” the brown-haired boy explained softly.   
The boy muttered curse words under his breath and looked around. Thomas glanced around two. They must have made it too. Maybe they got washed up somewhere else? Sending a wary glance Minho’s way, he stood up and started to walk down the shore. If the waves tossed them around last night, maybe they washed up somewhere else. The waves were not that big, so it couldn’t be possible that they died.   
He continued down the shore until he was out of sight before he saw another body face down in the sand. Another boy it seemed, this one harder to make out. He had a hood on, covering his hair and the little bit of skin that he could see was covered it dried sand. Thomas walked over and crouched down, he nudged the body wearily. He was afraid of turning over the body and coming face to face with a pale, lifeless face.   
Finally able to work up the courage, he pushed the body enough so that he was on his back. Definitely a boy, and definitely alive. Before Thomas could pull back the hood and fully study the boy, there was a shout.  
“Get away from him!” A girl’s voice came from behind him.  
The brunette whirled around quick enough to see a black-haired girl lift a large branch and tried to bring it down on his head. He rolled out of the way and grabbed the branch from the girl. She didn’t have a tight grip, so he was able to toss it away and out of reach. He held out his hands.  
“I’m not here to hurt you or your friend, now just calm dow-”  
He couldn’t finish his sentence before the girl pounced on him, sending them both flying. He landed on his back with a grunt, and barely had time to cover his face as she raised a pale fist and throw it towards his face. He tried to get her off, but she evaded his attempts and kept hitting him wherever she could.  
“Get off me!” He cried, but she ignored him, “dammit I didn’t want to do this.”  
With ease, he rolled them over and pinned her down to the sand. She thrashed beneath him, screaming as if someone was trying to kill her. Thomas frowned, was this girl mental? He hadn’t come off as hostile in any way and she tried to assault him. The girl managed to get him off and he watched in horror as she reached for a stone and prepared to beat him upside the head with it.  
“Hattie! Stop!”   
The boy from before appeared in between the two, reaching towards her. The girl’s brown eyes widened and then she dropped the rock as tears spilled from her eyes. She fell into his arms, sobbing wildly. She mumbled incoherently and clutched the boy’s shirt.   
Minho appeared beside Thomas, helping him up. Once the boy assured the older boy he was okay, they turned to the trio. The unconscious boy seemed to be coming to as his body twitched and a moan escaped from his mouth. Despite it being in pain and exhaustion, it sounded so sensual that it sent a pleasured shiver down Thomas’ spine.   
“I thought you were dead, when you didn’t wash up with us,” Hattie sobbed, pulling back from the dark-skinned boy.  
“I’m okay Hattie, it’s okay. We’re all fine.”  
“You don’t get it Lake, he was bleeding and I was freaking out, I didn’t know what to do! I barely managed to drag him to shore, he was unconscious within seconds,” she blubbered.  
Thomas noted a cut on the boy’s chest and knew they had to get it cleaned up before it got infected.   
“We’re going to have to treat him, so that wound doesn’t get worse,” Thomas intervened as the girl continued to explain the story to Lake. She glanced up at Thomas, who expected some kind of remorse or an apology, but only got a hostile stare.   
“He’s right, Hattie. If Isaac gets infected, he won’t make it very long. Especially with the cut so close to his heart.”  
“We’ll take care of your friend and you guys, we promise,” Minho said, sending a teasing wink Hattie’s way, which she responded to with a blank-eyed look.   
“Damn cold shank.”


	3. Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh I wonder who is back ._.

MINHO AND Lake carried Isaac back, Minho sending questioning glances towards Thomas the whole time. He didn’t understand them. Hattie had walked directly behind, fussing over the boy who was refusing to come back into consciousness. It was dinner time and all of them sat around a fire, except for Vince and Brenda who were attending to the boy. Both Minho and Jorge seemed to know something, the way they kept glanced at Thomas wearily.   
He ignored them and listened as Lake recounted how the crash had happened. They had been in a shallow part when the waves started to rise. The waves weren’t high, but none of them really knew how to work a boat that well.  
“It only took two waves to flip us over. Somehow the three of us went different directions. I fell off one way and Hattie and Isaac the other. I thought the two would try to go back to the boat, but once I reached the surface and found they boat, they were nowhere in sight. I called for them and found nothing. I clung onto the boat, my exhaustion overwhelmed me and I passed out and then woke up on shore, with Minho and Thomas looking at me.”  
Lake nudged Hattie, telling her to tell her part of her story. The girl took a deep breath, eyeing the strangers around her. The girl hadn’t said a thanks once to anymore. Not when Brenda addressed some of her wounds. Or when Harriet got her a water, and even when Frypan made food and let her get first servings. She gobbled it down, obviously enjoyed it, and still uttered nothing nice. Thomas didn’t want to seem rude, but he didn’t like her. She gave him no reason to. She attacked him and didn’t apologize.   
“Isaac was really weak and had been half asleep, even as the boat started to tip and both me and Lake were shouting. We tumbled off and when I went to the surface, I flipped when I didn’t see him anywhere. I kept searching around, until he slowly popped up. Blood was surrounding him and he was completely unconscious. He seemed to have gotten scratched by the boat and then hit his head on something. I’m not that strong of a swimmer, so even if I didn’t help him, I would’ve struggled against the waves. It felt like hours before I finally even saw the shore. Once I reached a shallow enough area to stand up and walk, I managed to get Isaac to shore before I lost all the contents in my stomach and collapsed.”  
The girl recounted the story with no emotion, ignoring the way all the others leaned in to her story with interest. They all knew how it ended of course, but they were all beyond interested. Brenda rushed from the hut and quickly exchanged words with Jorge, before they glanced towards Thomas. He shifted nervously, what was up with them? They were acting like the stars had crashed and burned the earth.  
“Thomas, please come with me,” Brenda murmured quietly.  
With a sigh, he stood up and followed Brenda into the hut. She didn’t immediately take him to where Isaac lay on the table as Vince leaned over him. Brenda twiddled her thumbs and did not make eye contact with him. He frowned, crossing his arms. Now his curiosity was taking over. What was it that seemed to have Jorge, Minho, and Brenda all worked up?   
“Just tell me, is he going to die or something?” Thomas questioned sharply, wiping strands of his hair from his eyes.   
“No, just please don’t freak out and prepare yourself,” she muttered. Vince stepped from the room and sent a quick nod Thomas’ way, before he exited the medical house. Brenda opened the curtain to the room and nodded for him to go in. He didn’t understand. He felt stupid and dense, it seemed to be obvious.  
He walked over to the bed, where the boy was laying with his back to him. In the dim-light he could make out tousled blonde hair and pale skin. The boy was awake, but he didn’t move. Isaac took a deep breath, and shifted on the bed, but still kept his back away from the brunette.   
“Do you know the reason why they were freaking out and why you seem to be an anomaly?”   
Silence.  
“Cool.”  
The boy’s voice came out gruff, too gruff, as if he was trying to conceal it, “have you ever been in love?”  
It was a weird question, but Thomas didn’t get to put-off. Honestly, if he was in the boy’s shoes and had just washed up on shore, he would be questioning life decisions too.   
“Yeah,” a bitter laugh escaped Thomas, “didn’t know it until he was long gone and I found it impossible it sleep at night without the knowledge that he was across the room, sound asleep. But what can you do?”   
The boy was silent for a moment. He stretched out his arm, before pulling it tightly to his side. Thomas wanted to boy to turn over so he could see him, but didn’t want to push it. He was obviously feeling uncomfortable.  
“What about you?”   
“Yeah, and I knew and left without ever telling the person.”  
“Why not?” Thomas asked softly, sitting down in a chair, and glancing out the window and up at the crescent moon hanging in the darkened sky.   
“I was afraid the feelings wouldn’t be mutual.”  
They both fell into silence. Isaac gazing at the wall in front of him, his fingers scratching at the cot. Thomas just leaned back in the chair, putting his feet up on the nightstand and resting his arms behind his head. The boy seemed completely normal, so why was everyone so worried?  
Finally, Isaac turned around coming face to face with Thomas. His brown eyes widened, meeting the honey-colored one’s with shock. He lay there, red dusted over his cheeks and his eyes were wide. Thomas’ breathing sped up—holy klunk it was Newt.   
“Newt?” He muttered, eyes widening, “I thought you left.”  
I thought you were never coming back.   
The Brit laughed, “It seems that it’s impossible. I tried, but every bloody time I came back. Then I met Hattie and Lake and they just dragged me back even faster then when I was alone.”  
Thomas was silent, listening to his best friend recount the countless times he came back to the shore in an attempt to come back. Then how he would back out—unable to face them again. He sighed once he finished explaining the story and then glanced up at Thomas with a devilish smirk.  
“So you love me, huh?” The blonde grinned, running a hand through his hair, “never thought I’d make it to the bloody day you said those words.”  
Thomas turned scarlet red and turned his face away. His hands clenched at his sides as he lapsed into an awkward silence. His teeth sank into his bottom lip and he exhaled through his nose. It felt like the air got thicker—it became harder to breathe in that room. Did he actually just say those words to Newt?   
“Well, I mea-”  
“It’s fine Tommy, I don’t need an explanation.”   
The blonde boy sat up on his cot, adjusting his shirt that had been unbuttoned so they patch up the cut. He stretched out his skinny arms and yawned. Thomas watched momentarily before pulling his gaze away and glancing once more out the window.   
Newt stood up, “well, shank, maybe we can figure something out but not right now.”  
And then he wandered out of the hut. Thomas listened as everyone greeted him. He heard Frypan shout as he stood up and engulfed the skinny boy in a big hug.  
“I knew you’d come back to us someday, shank!”  
I didn’t because I had no faith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, Newt is back! Not really a surprise though   
> Anyways, what did you guys think?   
> Also, this is going to move a bit quicker, because it is not a long story. I think it's going to reach six at max. I have another story coming out that will hopefully be longer because I actually planned for it


	4. A Million Feelings for Two Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should the chapters get longer? >.> I'm not really sure how long they should be, on other books they're much longer than mine and I feel awkward. Also, I suck at writing fluff so be prepared for a failure in the upcoming chapters  
> Enjoy!

(Newt’s POV) 

 

MAYBE IT only hurt because Tommy hadn’t really elaborated and had looked away. Or maybe it was because the cut was directly above his heart and just sent aches its way. He pretended it was the latter.  
As him and his two companions headed for his old cabin, his thoughts wandered away from the brunette. He thought about how when he left the hut, how Frypan had jumped on him and both Aris and Harriet had come running. Minho had slapped his back and grinned from ear-to-ear. He thought about the way Hattie bristled as they all welcomed him back and Lake had watched in silence.  
He didn’t want to say that Hattie was socially inept, but sometimes she gave off that vibe. She sucked at being kind to strangers—he had gotten a similar person when he first met them. Newt had met the pair on an island that was not far away from here. Hattie was warmer to him than she was to the others—not cozy warm; but still warmer—he wished she wouldn’t glare at all his old friends.  
“So your real name is Newt, but you told us it was Isaac?” Lake asked as they stepped into the wooden cabin. He took a deep breath, loving the familiar smell—wet cement, musty wood, and the ocean.  
“I was named after Isaac Newton,” he explained, sitting down on his old bed across from Thomas’, “I was trying to forget my past, and my name was apart of that. I figured a new beginning was the best thing.”  
“No matter how fake?” Hattie muttered, tumbling onto one of the available beds. Lake collapsed on the beside her’s.  
Newt didn’t respond as he frowned at her use of words. He technically told them the majority of the truth; he lived on an island close by, he had barely survived the Flare, had nearly died in a maze and in the Scorch, and that his name was Isaac. The only lie was his name, which, in his mind didn’t even classify as a full lie.  
After moments of silence, the other two finally lay down and dozed off. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. His hands were clasped on his chest and ankles crossed. He could hear the waves lapping at the shore and he thought about how he hadn’t been able to hear that on the other island. The camp was too far away from shore.  
There were so many things he missed about this place and didn’t realize until he came back. The way his bed hugged his body was so satisfying, or how their cabin smelled like both him and Thomas. The feeling of family, the dent in their wall that had been caused when Thomas jokingly threw a book at him (at least he hoped it was a joke.) Even though the beds squeaked every time someone moved, he missed that noise. The squirrels that lived around their “village” and always knew when they were eating and would come running for a small amount of food. The sight of the colony of bats jerking through the sky while the sun was setting, the occasional sighting of a dolphin. The weird games they had come up with.  
Newt wasn’t sure how long he laid there on his bed before Thomas entered. The boy didn’t say a single word as he came in and walked over to his bed. In the darkness, he watched as the other boy took off his shirt. The blonde pretended to be asleep when he noticed the boy turning around to face him.  
“Newt?”  
He didn’t reply, wondering what he would say.  
Thomas sighed, “honestly, I’m scared. Things didn’t go well with Teresa, and I know you aren’t her, but it just seems relationships are so weird in a time like this.”  
The brunette said nothing more as he climbed into bed and drifted off. Newt lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling for a while later, before he let himself fade away and into the land of dreams. 

 

 

He woke up right as the sun rose. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, he never woke up this early. Then he sat up, why did he wake up this early? Newt glanced around and then noticed that Thomas was no longer in his bed. He got up and walked over to the window.  
When he glanced out he saw the boy moving across the sand, carrying several gardening tools. He remembered how they planted seeds around this time. That’s why Jorge and Brenda are here, he thought to himself. He glanced over to where both Hattie and Lake were still asleep. With a shrug, he left the cabin and went in the direction Thomas had disappeared.  
His pale arms caught the rising sun in weird ways and he frowned when his skin lightly sparkled. He felt like a stupid vampire or something; no matter how much time he spent in the sun he was still pale. Newt was also aware of how skinny he was—leading people to believe he was younger than he actually was. Neither Lake nor Hattie believed him when he told them he was 20.  
“So, you came to help us out?” Aris said with a smirk as he stretched himself out.  
Newt was slightly taken aback since he hadn’t been paying attention, but then he smiled with a nod. His honey-colored eyes darted over to where Tommy was viciously beating the ground with a hoe. His tight t-shirt showed his rippling back muscles and flexing biceps. He bit his lip before he licked them as they went dry. Bloody hell.  
“Well, I figured you would need my help,” he tried not to stammer or choke up, but he did and had to awkwardly clear his throat. Aris winked at him, a knowing grin on his face. Dang, he noticed. Newt had a bad of seeds and read the label; strawberries. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. He wasn’t a big fan of sweet foods like berries or treats.  
As Thomas continued to hack at the ground, he pressed the seeds into the ground and covered them up. He followed Thomas without a word, trying not to break out into a sweat from the heat rising from the hard ground. Every few minutes Newt would catch himself looking up at Thomas’ back muscles. He licked his lips and went back to his job.  
Newt had always had an… infatuation with Thomas, ever since he stepped from the box. It isn't until the boy had saved his life nearly two years ago that awakened feelings inside of Newt. Being around the boy was like talking in front of a large crowd of cranks—taking too long to form sentences, an excessively high heart beat, butterflies, and a million distractions. Newt could find a million things that were too perfect for the boy. His dimples whenever he smiled, the freckles and moles that dotted his face. His muscles that you didn’t notice until he was really working; making the blonde-boy wonder what he would like when he’s working in the bedroom.  
Life was unfair of course, some people fell in love with people that they could easily ignore and others fell in love with someone that was too perfect for them. Or others fell in love that it was meant to happen but others fell in love with someone that could never replicate their feelings. Thomas may have replicated his feelings, but he did it fearfully.  
Newt hadn’t always known he was gay—he had just had an inkling when he came from the box with a lack of memories and had seen several boys staring at him. As months passed and he was only surrounded by testosterone and balls, he found himself always slightly attracted to some of the boys. None of those attractions had gone as far as it had with Tommy.  
Newt pursed his lips, and glanced up once more as the brunette leaned against the hoe. He watched as the boy dumped some of his water on his head. The droplets shone in the sun as they clung to his hair and then slowly dropped to his face and slid down his jawline and neck. He could now see through his white (luckily) t-shirt.  
“Maybe we should take a break,” Aris commented, “we’ve been working for nearly two hours now.”  
It had been that long? Newt hadn’t even realized, he was barely tired.  
“Yeah, I’m starving,” Thomas murmured, his voice deep and husky, licking his lips as his brown eyes bore into Newt.  
Bloody hell, he thought, red brushing across his cheeks. Warmth pounded in his stomach and spread along his legs and a certain… area. That boy could be seductive without even trying and it wasn’t fair. Newt bit down his lips to stop the small moan that threatened to escape, that’s how turned on he got by that small statement.  
“Yeah,” he coughed, his throat dry, “same here.”

 

(Thomas’ POV even though this is “third person”

He hadn’t meant to say that sentence with some much sensuality. He hadn’t even meant to bite his lip or stare the blonde down with a predatory grin. It had all come up randomly; a blow up of hormones. Of course, seeing Newt’s reaction had been enough to send a cocky smirk spiraling across his face. His eyes dilating into slits and cheeks burning red.  
Now he walked directly beside him, purposely letting their arms brush and pretending to not notice. The British boy kept glancing at him in confusion. Thomas could feel that the hairs along his arms were raised. His face wasn’t necessarily red, but his cheeks had more pink in them then most people.  
He kept licking his lips, trying to rid of the dryness that came from him breathing raggedly through his mouth. Finally, Thomas let him alone and moved ahead. He fell into a natural, cocky swagger. He could feel the other boy staring at him and, if possible, his ego puffed.  
In his relationship with Teresa, he had been the “submissive” one. He never was the seducer, he let her lead, and he never instigated anything. He now knew why she liked to be the dominant one, you had all the control. It felt good to tease and seduce and watch as your partner turned into a blushing and blubbering mess.  
Thomas shook his head in confusion, him and Newt weren’t partners. They were just friends… really good friends. He blushed and tried to scrape the thoughts from his mind. Without another word, he moved over to where Frypan was handing out a hash of some kind. Absentmindedly, he grabbed a bowl and sat down.  
Maybe he was actually crazy to try to avoid Newt, or crazy to like him in that way. But he said he liked you too, a tiny voice argued, why are you so scared? Thomas had all rights to be scared, didn’t he? He had never done something like this. He had one relationship, at least that he could remember, and that had been with a girl who kept betraying him. He only knew something that was rotten, broken, and abusive.  
Of course, Newt was the exact opposite of Teresa. He always stood at Thomas’ side, even when his ideas nearly got them killed. Even when he was dumb enough to chase after Teresa, despite betraying them and handing over one of his best friends: Minho. The boy would follow him anywhere, jump off a bridge onto pure cement, if it meant that everything would be better. He believed and trusted him.  
“Then what the hell am I scared of?” He muttered, “gosh, I’m such a shank.”  
He rubbed his face tiredly with his hands and finally looked up, surfacing from his thoughts. Newt was sitting next to Minho and the two were joking around. They poked at each other and laughed. The Asian boy grinned and jokingly flexed his arm muscles. Newt rolled his eyes and said something.  
His gaze suddenly snapped to Thomas and the two stared at each other for a moment. Thomas looked away first, staring into his bowl and scooping up a spoonful of hash. He didn’t even taste it because he was so distracted.  
Brenda sat down beside him, her short black hair pulled back with hairpins. Her brown eyes searched his and then darted over to Newt. How come everyone seemed to notice? He blushed and set aside his bowl. His appetite was gone—though he debated if his appetite had really been for food.  
“There is so much sexual tension,” she murmured, “you’d be better off if you just did it and then lived a happy life after.”  
“I don’t believe in just fucking,” he snorted.  
“You mean you want to wait and ‘get to know each other?’” She said in air quotes, “you two have known each other for a duration of over four years. You may as well just skip the dating part and get to the fun part.”  
When he was silent, she continued.  
“Plus, how do you know Newt is going to stay? His two companions don’t seem too comfortable with other people. Though we may his friends, they are also. Just because you survived so much together, doesn’t mean he won’t choose those two over you. And you’re too wimpy to go with him.”  
“People who leave are scared!” He hissed, anger lancing through his body. How dare she call him weak for not leaving?  
“No, you are too scared to face the world again and live alone. You would rather stay in a place that you are pretty certain is safe.”  
With that, she stood up and patted him on the back with a half-comforting smile. Then she walked away, said hi to Newt and Minho, and sat down besides Jorge and Frypan.  
Thomas hoped she wasn’t right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about writing another book! I'm not sure when it will be up, but just check out my profile to see if another one is up   
> Yeahhhhhhh  
> old lady out


	5. Lack of Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for things to get steamy and fluffy because Newt has lost his patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bear with this old child, she can't write fluff for her life  
> "because she's lonely!"  
> *looks around* "I will kill whoever just said that, and it's not becuase its a lie."

Newt was tired of waiting. He hated waiting to see if Thomas would tease him again or make any advances. Newt couldn’t necessarily say he was a dominant one, but he impatient and would get what he wanted. It had been two weeks since he had come back and Thomas had been avoiding him pretty bloody well.   
“It’s unfair,” he muttered to himself, throwing a rock into the ocean, watching in land with a kasploosh, “he teases me once and gets me all riled up and then doesn’t advance.”  
He wanted to tease Thomas the exact same way that he had teased him. Do something to get under his skin and get him all hot inside and then just walk away. He glanced over his shoulder and then stared back into the water. He had just the perfect idea.

It took awhile to convince everyone, but after he did, he couldn’t be more proud of himself. He told them they should go swimming after dinner. Do some games and competitions. His real motivation was to just have an excuse to walk around shirtless and “accidentally” rub up against Tommy-boy.   
Everyone was sitting on the beach, laughing and exchanging conversation. Hattie had slightly warmed-up to the group and would smile softly whenever she was talking to anybody. Lake already seemed to fit in perfectly with the group.   
“I know exactly why you’re doing this.”  
He looked over his shoulder to watch as Aris sat down beside him. The younger boy ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and then grinned at him. There was something mischievous in his eyes that that worried Newt. Was he going to relentlessly tease him about doing this to get Thomas’ attention? Or worse, tell Thomas?  
“You should make him jealous,” the boy suggested, glancing over to where Thomas was talking with Vince while side-eying them.  
“Yeah, but how?” Newt snorted, crossing his arms over his bare chest.   
He was stupid to ask that question, because it had been out in the open. But somehow he was too dense to realize exactly what Aris meant. The boy burst into laughter randomly and his head fell on Newt’s shoulder, laughing at nothing.   
“Wow, Newt, aren’t you sweet,” he giggled, loudly enough for the others to hear. Newt held back a blush as his eyes swept past Aris to the brunette. He was watching them with full attention, one hand clenched tightly around a jar of water. It was working already and they hadn’t done anything.  
Newt smirked, “well, that is one thing I do pride myself on.”  
He wasn’t happy with this whole thing, he would rather actually be doing anything of this with Thomas, but there was only way to make it happen. He grinned as he wrapped a hand around Aris’ waist, shocking the boy as he tugged and sent him tumbling into his chest. Aris momentarily was stunned before he fell back into the act and lay his head down on Newt’s legs. He grinned and ran a hand over his shoulder.  
Newt knew they had more than one onlooker. From the corner of his eye, nearly everyone was staring in blank shock. Harriet and Minho both were smirking and glancing at Thomas, already catching on. Vince seemed freaked out and he kept looking away, refusing to actually stare at the two. Lake had started choking on whatever he was drinking and Hattie was too distracted to even give him a small tap on the back.   
Thomas’ reaction was the best. He had dropped his jar and both his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. Veins clenched on his arms and his eyebrows were furrowed. Brown eyes weren’t filled with fury—but blank and obvious envy. Newt grinned, not expecting it to actually work.  
“Who knew that this would work,” Newt chuckled, staring down at Aris. The boy giggled again as if he had just told him sweet-nothings. He slapped his chest.  
“Oh stop it!”  
Newt slightly turned his face so the whole audience could see. Then he winked and Thomas stormed off. 

 

 

“It worked too well,” Newt muttered, sitting on a log and staring at where Thomas had ran off to. It was frustrating to no end that Thomas didn’t act on his feelings and instead just ran away. Newt took a sip of the rum that Frypan had made, he winced, “shank can’t face his feelings.”   
Minho sighed, “then go run after him, Newt.”  
“I’ve tried that before and it hasn’t worked!” He exploded.  
“This time is different, because Thomas knows exactly how he feels and he know he wants you.”   
His black eyes glanced at Newt before he shrugged and gulped down the rum. He stood up and clapped him on the back, “good luck, shank.”  
Newt sighed and stood up. Minho was right, that act with Aris hadn’t been for nothing. The whole point was to get Thomas’ attention and to drag him into his trap. The trap was set and ready and now he just needed the bait.   
He went off in the direction the brunette had disappeared. He moved through the thicket, shivering as cold brushed across his arms. It was a decent amount of time before he came to a clearing with just one tree in the center. Against the tree leaned a lone figure, eyes cast towards the stars up ahead.  
Newt looked up, suddenly aware of the twinkling lights in the sky. They were easy to spot against the darkness. They seemed to scream hope—and maybe the stars were the only reason they were all still struggling to survive.   
“Thomas?” He called, his voice coming out shakier than he meant. He kept walking until he was standing directly over him.  
He wasted no time, “so you like Aris now, huh? You two looked so cute and sickening together.”  
His voice was bitter enough to send an unpleasant chill through Newt’s anatomy. He was the reason that Thomas was hurt. Was he going to be the reason for his happiness too?  
“Well, you never exactly gave me anything, Tommy.”  
There was a few seconds of silence. Newt yelped as Thomas suddenly stood up and shoved Newt against the tree. The brunette stood just inches away from him, their noses brushing.   
Then there was fire; Tommy’s lips crashed onto Newt’s. Pleasure arced across his body as the boy roughly gripped his hips and poured everything into that kiss. Newt kissed him back, unable to fight the passion that suddenly took over the two. He reached up to tug at the hair on his neck. He moved his mouth forcefully until Thomas’ mouth opened and his tongue slipped in.  
He explored every inch of that mouth, thoughts wandering to certain images. He wondered how it would feel to have his cock inside this mouth. Newt pulled away and then nipped at his earlobe and then kissed along his jawline. He moved down to his throat, sucking and bite, leaving marks along the way.   
Newt was glad that Thomas was still shirtless. Without hesitation, the blonde moved his mouth over to the boy’s nipples. He tugged and bit at one and thumbed the other. Tommy bucked against him, forcing his erection against Newt’s.  
Newt flipped them around so his back was no longer against the tree. He continued his assault down Thomas’ body, running his tongue through every groove and defined line. He kissed along Tommy’s waistband, teasingly batting his eyelashes up at him.  
Tommy grabbed his head and the his hips bucked when Newt pinched his hips. The Brit pulled away with a satisfied smirk; he was no longer the only one affected. He stood up and brushed dirt off his knees. He winked at Thomas and then started to walk back towards camp.  
“You’re just going to stop?” He asked in disbelief.   
“If you really want more, you’ll meet me at the secluded shore tomorrow night,” he called and then disappeared into the tree line.


	6. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for ending it like this... *flops on floor and basically dies like a basic white girl*   
> actually, this really isn't the end. this is a momentary chapter that will probably be completely wiped out and re-edited to something else. my brain is fried because of finals and shit so this is really short and it was really hard to write because like hemdifyuleirukndf dljdfl   
> but i promise this isn't the end but ill probably be on hiatus for a long time because my finals week is actually final weeks ._. ikr what dah heck are you doing to me you stupid school people  
> bleh  
> the grandma hopes you enjoy ;)   
> ish not steamy

Thomas couldn’t breathe. It took up all his courage to slip from his bed and out of the cabin. Newt was already gone—already at the far shore. Thomas wasn’t because he was a total pussy. He didn’t have the guts to walk towards the shore. He knew he should, because he saw the Newt felt the same way; but his heart was pounding and his mind racing with a million thoughts of how this could go wrong.   
Newt left once, what’s stopping him from leaving again?  
Thomas sat down on a log that was around the fire pit. He stared at the charred wood and twiddled his thumbs. He couldn’t describe his fear, not even if someone offered him a true paradise. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t know what he was scared of—because he did.   
“Oh, klunk,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.   
He was scared of openly loving Newt.  
“I’m a shank.”  
He laughed, bitterly, because he was a pathetic idiot. He could already feel the heavy understanding in his heart—he was never going to stand up. He was never going to go see Newt tonight. He was going to lose his chance and he would live with the consequences. Why?   
“Why, oh, why,” he cried, lifting his head up and glancing at the stars. He remembered the world he lived in—a post-apocalyptic world.   
Nothing was perfect; not even love… not even Newt. He snorted, the boy he wanted to reach out and hold, but was too far away. He isn't scared of him, he yearned for him. He was scared of love in such a broken, destroyed world.  
It was pathetic.  
His mind wandered to the night before, how Newt had sent feelings spiraling through his body that he didn’t even know existed. He remembered being pressed against the tree, struggling to catch any air. Sparks had shot across his skin and emotions had roiled in his head.   
He wanted to knot his hands in the blonde’s hair, and stroke his face. He wanted to know the feeling of his small body pressed against his chest. But he couldn’t because he was a fearful shank. He had no courage in his body to fight the real world and dive into a world that may not exist; but he would make it exist. As if.  
Thomas knew that the others would look at him and see an extremely courageous boy who led them on adventure after adventure. They thought he was strong, and maybe he was when it came to stupid things where he could run in with a weapon screaming. You can’t really run into love like that, can you?  
A weapon is what destroys love.   
He had to admit it: he loved Newt; but not enough.  
To come face to face with it, he was scared of his heart. Of what it would do to him. His heart had nearly gotten Newt killed and had gotten so many others killed. Newt may be alive now; but he would’ve been dead if the tides didn’t turn the way they did.   
“I would rather live a life of sadness, then screw up and ruin everything around me.”  
Those words decided it.

Newt would be alone at the shore tonight.


End file.
